


Bell Out of Order, Please Knock

by Gang_Aft_Agley



Series: It Takes a Village [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 2018 Winter Olympics, Figure Skater Natasha, Learn to Knock Yuri, M/M, Massive Olympics Crossover AU, Mila and Natasha red-headed figure skating ninjas, Olympic Village Shenanigans, Title Stolen from the Wizard of Oz, Traumatizing Yuri Plisetsky, With a little thanks to Pride and Prejudice, but it's probably justified, quite a lot of swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 09:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11506983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gang_Aft_Agley/pseuds/Gang_Aft_Agley
Summary: More Olympic Village Shenanigans.  Yuri Plisetsky is going to patent brain bleach before all of this is over.  Mila and Natasha are enjoying themselves a little too much.





	Bell Out of Order, Please Knock

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a young man in possession of ordinary common sense and discretion should always knock before opening a closed door.  This is doubly true in the Olympic Village, where one never knows what (or whom) might be behind said door.

Yuri Plisetsky completely ignored this unspoken rule, choosing instead to unceremoniously burst into the room unannounced,  In doing so, he opened the door with so much force that it bounced off the opposite wall, doorknob rattling.  He'd been warned, so everything that followed was his own damn fault.

“Ughhhh, Lyosha, _please_ save me, Victor and Katusdon are being dis … gust … iiiiiiiiing …..”  The poor, much-abused door swung back and hit him in the shoulder, but he didn’t even notice as his voice trailed off in shock (and not a little disgust).

He'd expected to find Alexei Mashkov relaxing alone in his room, but, alas, Mashkov was neither relaxed nor alone.  Instead, he was half-dressed and pinning an equally shirtless Kent Parson up against the wall.  Parson’s feet were completely off the floor with his legs wrapped around Mashkov’s hips, ankles locked behind the small of his back.  They startled at his dramatic entrance, looking at him with wide deer-in-the-headlight eyes.

“Sweet Jesus, Tater, I thought you locked the fucking door!” Parson yelped as he untangled his fingers from Mashkov's hair.  “Fuck fuck FUCK, put me down, _fuuuuck_!”

“Sorry, sorry, Kenny!” Mashkov mumbled, lifting his head from the crook of Parson's neck.  Carefully lowering his boyfriend to the ground in response to some frantic squirming, he let Parson find his footing before releasing the he had death grip on his ass.  Before turning around to face Yuri, however, there was the distinct and unmistakable sound of a fly being hastily zipped up.  “I meant to, but you’re very distracting!”

Yuri blinked, mouth working silently, because there were many things in this world that he did _not_ need to see, EVER, and this … this included several of them: the faint finger-shaped bruises on Parson’s biceps and hips, the reddening scratches running up and down Mashkov’s back, or the pale pink bite marks blooming under both of their jaws, to name just a few.

“Was there something _urgent_ you needed, Yuri?” Mashkov asked, biting his lip and raking a hand through his hair in a vain attempt to make it look less incriminating and bed-head-y.  Parson likewise bore an uncanny resemblance to a disgruntled hedgehog as he ground his teeth.  "Is everything all right?"

The horrified shriek that had been building in Yuri’s throat for the past minute finally erupted, and the Ice Tiger of Russia fled: down the hallway and immediately bypassing the elevator in favor of the stairs, to get as far away as possible as quickly as possible.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, _shut the goddamn door behind you, kid!”_ Kent called after him, huffing with embarrassment.  Tater ran a soothing hand down his spine and kissed his hair in apology.

Before either of them could correct the oversight of the open door, the Russian female figure skating contingent appeared, drawn by Yuri’s screaming.  Their reaction was ... the opposite of Yuri's.

Mila’s eyes sparkled as she covered her mouth with one hand and propped herself against the door frame with the other.

“Too busy to put a sock on the doorknob, eh, boys?” she asked, voice a bare step above a giggle.  Parson growled somewhere deep in his throat, while Tater stepped up behind him, wrapping his arms around Kent’s waist and resting his chin on the top of his head.

Natasha said nothing, contenting herself with a raised eyebrow and a slow once-over, starting at the boys’ feet and ending at Parson’s chagrined face.  She lingered around their waists for a heartbeat or two, causing Parse to flush and self-consciously hitch his sweatpants a little higher on his hips.  Obstinately, Tater didn’t bother to adjust his jeans in the least (even though they were riding perilously low, and he clearly had nothing on underneath them).

Finally, Parse had enough of Natasha’s unblinking stare, and Mila’s barely suppressed laughter.

“Well, as _fun_ as this little conversation has been, I think it’s time for you two to go,” he said, shrugging off Tater’s restraining hands and beginning to shoo the girls out the door.   They went, laughing, albeit not as quickly as he would have liked, seemingly stalling just for the hell of it.

To be fair though, instant teleportation wouldn't have gotten them out of the door fast enough for Parson's taste.  They'd have needed a damn time machine for that.

“Are we keeping you from something, Parson?” Natasha grinned, wrinkling her nose and cocking her head to one side as Parse gave her a little nudge in the shoulder blade, _finally_ edging her out into the hallway proper.

“Yes, yes, you _very_ much are, Romanova, how perceptive of you.  Now, I know Bits is stress-baking over in the American compound and the kitten probably needs soothing, why don’t you go find him, OKAY, BYE!”

He slammed the door abruptly, cutting off any reply the girls might have made and nearly hitting Natasha in the nose.  Normally, doing so would be cause for definite maiming and possible death, but she could give him a pass this time.  Besides, the _slam_ was almost immediately followed by a rattling _thump_ , as if something (or more probably, some _one_ ) had hit the door from the inside.

They could also hear a murmured _Now where were we_ through the wall as they walked away.

“Do you wanna call Sara back and finish planning Operation: Distract Mickey?” Natasha asked, following Mila back to her room.  “Or do we _really_ need to go find the kitten?  Because honestly, he did this to himself, so my sympathy is limited, but Yakov will actual-facts murder us if he bursts a blood vessel and we didn’t stop it.”

Mila shook her head as she flopped down on the floor, leaving the bed for Natasha.

“No need, I know where he’s going, and I’ve already given Otabek a heads-up.”  Even as she spoke, her phone beeped.

  
_Tiny ball of anger and screaming headed your way_   
_Thought you’d want to know_

_What did you DO to him?_   
_I think you REALLY broke Yura this time_   
_Stop breaking him right before competitions dammit_

_Don’t blame ME, it was Parson and Mashkov_

_He’s burrowed under my covers, curled up in a ball and whimpering_   
_At least he’s stopped screaming?_

_He has only himself to blame_   
_He burst in on them without knocking_   
_Got QUITE an eyeful *wink emoji*_

_Yeah that would do it_

_Well I’m certainly not complaining_

_*vomit emoji*_

_*kiss emoji*_

_On behalf of my traumatized boyfriend: GROSS, HAG_   
_Stop perving on hockey players and help me fix this_

_Apparently Eric is stress-baking_   
_If you ask nicely, Leo will probably bring you something_   
_If he can resist the pie, then he’s doomed and we can start planning his funeral_

_Thank you_

Natasha giggled when Mila showed her the conversation with Beka.

“Well, I’m glad that’s taken care of.  Wanna go eat pie and perv on the rest of the American hockey team?”

Mila smirked as she laced up her sneakers.

“I thought you’d never ask.  Can you get Barnes to take off his shirt?”  Natasha shrugged as she headed out the door to fetch _her_ shoes.

“Only one way to find out.”


End file.
